A Wish Fulfilled
by JavaStix
Summary: Harry and Ginny embark on a new adventure...their life together...this is AU because it was started before DH came out and was too far gone by the time it did come out.
1. Chapter 1

Chapter 1

The sunset cast a golden rainbow of colour upon the hill overlooking the Burrow. This only added to the sparkling effect of the charms that had been put in place to illuminate the wedding tent. The groom, wearing a suit of formal robes in black, paced nervously around the small area near the flowered archway. His green eyes sparkled, and despite the neatness of appearance, his dark hair was quite an untamed mess. The best man seemed nervous as well, watching his friend suffer those last minute jitters. He was tall and lanky, and his red hair contrasted brightly against the black formal robes he wore.

"Harry!" exclaimed Ron. "You've got to relax, mate. It's not like you're marrying Pansy Parkinson. Bloody hell, it's my sister!"

Harry looked at Ron in amazement. The realization suddenly hit him that Ron would now be his brother. Officially. A broad smile slowly spread across his face. The excitement was catching up with him. He looked out onto the lawn where many witches and wizards had gathered to watch Harry, once known as The Boy Who Lived, get married. Many charms had been put in place to keep out unwanted press, but Harry was a highly sought-after commodity. After defeating Voldemort, Harry became the most eligible wizard in the magical community. From today he would be off the market, so to speak, and the whole world wanted to know who had "snagged" him. He could see Remus Lupin and Tonks attempting to reinforce the charms that had already been placed. Rita Skeeter would be dying to get in for the festivities, but Harry had no intention of allowing her Quick-Quotes Quill anywhere near his bride, or their celebration.

* * *

In the Burrow, the bride was giddy with excitement. Her maid of honour, Hermione Granger, was busy brushing her hair with something that looked like a wooden paddle with bristly things sticking out of it.

"I know it's very easy to do your hair with a flick of the wand," said Hermione, "but I have always found that there is something very soothing about having someone brush my hair. I thought you might find it relaxing as well."

The red-headed beauty, eased back into her chair to allow Hermione to brush her hair. She was right. It was soothing. She could almost feel her nervous energy flowing out the ends of her hair. Ginevra Weasley was about to make a childhood dream come true. She was about to marry Harry Potter.

As Hermione brushed her hair, Ginny recalled all the times she had wished Harry would notice her. From the first day on platform nine and three-quarters, to her rescue in the Chamber of Secrets. From the time they spent together in her fifth year which abruptly ended at Professor Dumbledore's funeral, to the saving of the Wizarding world. The moment Harry Potter defeated Voldemort, Ginny had been too ecstatic about being able to live her life without fear to even think about what this meant for Harry and herself. But now here she was, getting ready to pledge the rest of her life to him.

Interrupting Ginny's reverie, Hermione gently told her that it was time to get dressed and went to fetch Mrs. Weasley. As she waited Ginny took a long look at the gown she had designed herself. She couldn't wait to see the look on Harry's face when he saw it.

Molly bustled into the room. "Oh Ginny!" she sighed.

"Mum, I can't get ready if you're going to get all weepy."

"Ginny, I never thought I'd see the day … and to think … and it's Harry … and …" Molly's emotions overcame her and she couldn't finish speaking.

She helped Ginny slide into the light, shimmery fabric. The dress was sleeveless with a low-scooped neck, silvery-pink in colour, and it clung to her curves just enough to provide a hint of sensual allure. It made Ginny feel beautiful and womanly and she hoped it would make her groom weak at the knees. Molly helped her into the matching robe, which wasn't really a robe at all, more of a cape which attached to the dress at the shoulders. Her mother made some adjustments and then turned Ginny so she could see her back in the mirror. The top of the cape draped from shoulder to shoulder in graceful folds. It reached all the way to the floor, even when she stepped into her heeled shoes, and flowed with every movement she made. The edging of both the cape and the gown was beaded in great detail, creating a diamond-like effect which sparkled in the light. Around her throat she fastened a platinum chain with a diamond pendant that had been in Harry's vault at Gringotts. It had belonged to Lily Potter, Harry's mother, and Harry had wanted her to have it.

Lastly, Molly cast a charm to put the finishing touches to Ginny's hair. It was now piled on her head with long curls framing her face and trailing down the back of her neck.

She was ready. Hermione knocked and came in, gasping when she saw Ginny. "You look amazing, Ginny. I've never seen anyone look so beautiful," Hermione said with tears in her eyes.

"Not even Fleur?" Ginny raised an eyebrow.

Hermione laughed. "Not even Fleur – I mean it – you're beautiful!" She hugged Ginny gently and whispered into her ear, "I'm so happy for you!".

Ginny took a deep breath. She was ready.

She closed her eyes for just a moment, ready to face the rest of her life with Harry Potter.

She was ready.

* * *

The musicians were playing as the guests took their seats. It was a lovely afternoon, and the music heralded the coming of the beauty who would soon become Ginny Potter. Harry took his place at the altar. Next to him stood Ron Weasley, Harry's first real friend, who would now be his brother. Next to Ron were the Weasley twins, Fred and George. These were the people in whom Harry had placed his trust and his life. These were the friends Harry knew would be there through thick and thin.

Suddenly, the music changed. Harry shifted where he stood, and looked at Ron with a nervous smile. He looked down the aisle, and Luna Lovegood walked gracefully toward him. Harry had always thought she was a tad insane, but she had believed in him and what he had to do before most others did, and she was really very nice. She wore a champagne-coloured gown that shimmered with hints of rainbow. As she reached the altar, she turned, and walked toward her seat, opposite the twins. Next, came Fleur. The eldest Weasley's wife was beautiful, and despite the fact that she was married to his brother, she could still send Ron into fits of stunned amazement over her beauty. She wore a sparkling blue gown that really set off her tanned skin, and blonde hair. Sitting just behind her, Bill was beaming with pride.

Without warning, Harry heard Ron choke on his breath. He looked up and saw Hermione making her way down the aisle. She wore a pale pink gown with silver beads on the edging. Her hair was swept up on top of her head, and she looked amazing. She glanced at Harry with a big smile, but then she only had eyes for Ron. _One day_, Harry thought, _this will be Ron and Hermione. One day._ And his thoughts were interrupted by another change in the music.

After another quick glance at Ron, Harry looked hopefully up the aisle. What he saw was a beaming Arthur Weasley, leading an absolutely stunning bride between the rows of seats. Harry felt his breath catch, he could feel his eyes start to water. He had to blink back the tears fast because he didn't want his vision to get blurry and miss a single moment of his bride walking down the aisle. Ginny was looking at him with all the adoration he felt for her mirrored in her eyes. When she and her father reached the altar where Harry stood waiting, Arthur shook hands with Harry and gave Ginny a kiss on the cheek and a long embrace. He reluctantly let go as Ginny reached for Harry's hand.

Harry and Ginny turned and walked toward the altar where, beaming at them from his frame propped on a tall stand behind the altar, was Albus Dumbledore.

* * *

Thinking back to the planning of this day, Harry remembered how Professor Dumbledore had come to officiate at the wedding.

"_Mrs. Weasley," Harry asked "I've only been to one wedding in my life, and that was Bill's. I know in the Muggle world, people usually get married by ministers. But Fleur's uncle performed the ceremony at their wedding. Can just anyone do that?"_

_Molly replied, with a twinkle in her eye, "Well, Harry, yes and no._ _We don't have priests or ministers for that type of ceremony. Fleur's uncle was chosen as he has a special place in Fleur's life, and she and Bill agreed that he was the best choice. You can choose anyone, as long as they have a significant connection to your life."_

_Later that day, Harry and Ginny discussed it, while Ginny pored over Wedding Magic looking at dresses. Harry really wished Professor Dumbledore was still alive, as he would have asked him to perform the ceremony. When he said as much, Ginny looked up at him and asked, "Well, why can't he perform the ceremony?"_

_Harry had looked at her as if she were mad. "Uh, Ginny? There's the slight problem of Dumbledore being, um, less than alive, isn't there?" He was still uncomfortable saying the words 'Dumbledore' and 'dead' in the same sentence. _

_But Ginny just laughed. "Well why not? You've spoken with him all the time since he passed on. Why can't we see if his portrait from McGonagall's office can be brought out for the ceremony?"_

_Stunned, Harry slowly whispered, "Do you really think that's possible?"_

* * *

Harry returned the smile to Professor Dumbledore and whispered, "I'm still amazed that this is legal!"

Albus Dumbledore had known Harry since he was born. He had helped him come into is own in the Wizarding world. Dumbledore provided Harry with the means, the knowledge, to defeat the darkest wizard of all, Lord Voldemort. He could not be more honoured, or more thrilled, than he was right now, to be chosen to officiate at the wedding of Harry and Ginny. His eyes sparkled, and he cleared his throat.

"Friends, family, we are here, on this most auspicious occasion, to celebrate the union of Harry Potter and Ginny Weasley. We all know Harry's story. How he was, still is, the Boy Who Lived. We know how he was prophesied to be the Chosen One. And most gratefully, we know he has defeated the dark wizard, Lord Voldemort."

Here, Dumbledore paused, to allow for the nods, the clapping, and the murmurs of agreement.

"What most of you don't know about Harry is that he is the most humble wizard. He did not seek glory, or fame. And now, he is about to embark on the greatest adventure of all … the adventure of marriage.

"Ginny has grown up the youngest of seven in a family of boys. She has learned to fight, tease, joke, duel and love. She has proven herself to be one of the brightest, most talented witches of her age.

"Harry, please take Ginny's hand and speak your promises."

Harry held Ginny's hand in his, and looked deeply into her eyes. He felt his whole body tingle with the love he saw reflected in them. Then he began to speak.

"Ginny, from the day we met before you started Hogwarts, I felt a connection to you. I can't say it was the chase, because for a long time, I didn't chase you at all. When I finally woke up, and the love that I was missing out on, the pure joy, the pure lightness of spirit that I was depriving myself of, I could not believe my luck. You made … no, you MAKE my whole world brighter, just by being in it. You have given me the strength to overcome my greatest fears. You have given me hope for the future … the future of the Wizarding world, and my future. Without you, I would be an empty shell. You are everything to me. I promise with my whole being that I will love you for the rest of my days. I hope to bring you only joy, and never sorrow. I will do my best to understand all of your ideas, even if I might not always agree with them. I am yours, in body, mind and spirit. Forever."

Ginny's eyes were sparkling with tears of happiness. Never, had she imagined that Harry could be so eloquent. And deep down, she wondered if he'd had some assistance from Hermione. But it didn't matter. He had said those words, out loud, in front of everyone, to her. She glanced at Professor Dumbledore, and he nodded to indicate she could proceed.

"Harry, from the first day I saw you, I knew that you were MY chosen one. I couldn't speak to you, I couldn't face you, but I knew. And when you saved me in the Chamber of Secrets, I became bound to you. Then finally, you noticed me. You saw me for the girl I was, and the woman I was to become. And in a flash, it was over. But now, after all we've been through together, knowing that you let me stand by your side in the final battle, I know I want to stand by your side for always. I promise to love you completely. I want only to grow old with you, and to live life to the fullest with you. I want to have disagreements and fights with you. And I want to have discussions of the highest thoughts with you. I will be yours. Always."

There was a warm breeze blowing, but otherwise the world seemed to be holding its breath. All eyes were on Harry and Ginny as the love they shared electrified the air, creating an aura of pink around them. If asked, the witnesses would have said the bride and groom were floating.

The silence was finally broken by a smiling Dumbledore. "Harry and Ginny, you have come here today before your friends and family, to pledge your life and your love to each other. Is this true?"

"It is," they replied.

"Harry and Ginny, you have asked this assemblage to bless your marriage, and to acknowledge you as husband and wife. Do you wish for this union to be complete?"

"We do."

"Harry and Ginny, life has thrown some strange and difficult circumstances your way. You have lived through them. Will you promise to stand side by side should anymore strange and difficult circumstances come your way?"

"We will."

"Then, Harry and Ginny, you have sworn before your family, your friends, and me, to be faithful to each other. I now pronounce you Husband and Wife." With eyes sparkling, he added, "You may kiss your bride, Harry."

It was a chaste kiss that was exchanged, but the passion and the love emanating from the pair were tangible. They turned to face their guests as Albus Dumbledore announced, "I present to you, for the first time, Mr. and Mrs. Harry Potter." There was a thunderous round of applause. "May they share, always, the love I have witnessed between James and Lily, and Arthur and Molly."

With that the ceremony ended. Fred and George set off a large batch of Wildfire Whiz-bangs just as the sun disappeared over the horizon. They lit up the sky like a million comets zooming through space.

* * *

As the crowd followed the bride and groom into the reception tent, the music began to play, and Harry and Ginny began to dance. They were ready for their happily ever after, but little did they know that it would not be their luxury for some time to come.


	2. Chapter 2

Chapter 2

It was dark and rainy, and the approach to the Burrow felt like anything but a homecoming. Three weeks in the South of France had done their job, but Harry and Ginny, while looking forward to seeing their family and friends, were not quite ready to be back in the real world.

As Harry lifted his hand to turn the knob on the door, it swung open and what met his gaze surprised him. He had been about to lift Ginny over the threshold, but stopped when he realized that the Weasleys were all sitting quietly, waiting for them to enter. The somber mood that blanketed the room was enough to cause anyone to be worried. There was something serious going on. He shut the door behind his new wife and asked, "So … what news?"

Arthur took Harry's arm and led him through the living room, where Ron, Bill and Charlie were waiting anxiously to talk to him.

Harry was starting to feel as if the Dark Lord himself might have come back to life. "Would someone please tell me what's going on?"

Ron was the first to open his mouth. "Harry, I don't really know how to tell you this …"

"Please. Just say it. Unless you tell me the Dark Lord has risen again, I doubt it's as serious as you all seem to think." Harry became slightly alarmed when he noticed the look exchanged between Bill and Charlie.

"Well, no … the Dark Lord has not risen again. You took pretty good care to make sure that couldn't ever happen."

"Right, so what are you all on about?"

Arthur began, "Draco–"

"Malfoy!" finished Ron.

Harry almost started to laugh. "You're joking, no? How could he possibly be a threat, or be even remotely powerful enough to cause any problems?"

"Well, Harry," Bill replied, "the thing of it is that Draco seems to blame you for all the misery in his life. You've been out of the country, so you probably haven't read the _Prophet_. He's held a press conference stating that he has every intention to seek retribution. He's out for blood."

"Unfortunately, mate," Ron interjected, "it's yours he wants."

* * *

Molly Weasley wrapped her arms around her only daughter, thrilled to see her, despite the serious mood that hung over the Burrow. She managed to hide the worry that sat on her shoulders but Ginny still had some idea there was something wrong.

Fleur, too, gave Ginny a big hug. The three women began talking about the trip, and Ginny assured them that they had plenty of pictures to share with them once they were developed. Fleur wanted to hear all of Ginny's opinions of France, as she had not been back for a couple of years … since her marriage to Bill, as a matter of fact.

"You should really go back, Fleur. All the tours we took talked about how much things have changed in the last three or four years. You might need to take a tour yourself!"

"Well, I do 'ope to get back zere soon! Bill needs to learn more about where I grew up, and what my family was like! I know my muzzer wants me to 'ave babies soon and I zink she would like to be zere when I do!"

* * *

"What do you mean, he's out for my blood?"

"Rita Skeeter reported last week that she met with Malfoy in Diagon Alley. She claims that he has a big chip on his shoulder ever since his parents lost their lives in the last war, and he blames you for it. He made it very clear in his interview that he didn't care what it took, or what happened to him, he would exact his revenge."

Charlie spoke up at last. "What worries us the most is that he knew you were out of the country and he knew when your wedding was. He listed off specific details about your wedding that no one could have known unless they were here."

Harry looked up sharply. He knew Remus and Tonks had reinforced the protective spells over and over that night. But he also knew that the Weasleys had a very large property, and the charms didn't cover its entirety. Could someone have snuck onto the edge of the grounds and spied everything going on?

* * *

"_Harry Potter! You should have gone when your parents did! I've said it over and over again!" Lucius Malfoy oozed the evil that became him whenever Harry was involved._

"_That may be!" Harry replied. "But obviously I'm still here, and I believe everything happens for a reason – my reason tonight is YOU!"_

_As Lord Voldemort crested the top of the stairs, the tower shook. In his hissing, snake-like voice, he called, "Luciussss, leave him to me."_

"_Get away from me, you snake! You have no idea how Malfoy here helped to destroy one of your _Horcruxes _do you? He took your diary … your wonderful, precious diary … and placed it into the hands of someone you all consider to be a blood-traitor. Thanks to MALFOY, that _Horcrux _is destroyed!"_

"_NO! Master, don't listen to him! Remember? He is the one who destroyed it! He is the one who caused your soul to separate from the diary!"_

_Voldemort rounded on Lucius. "You would have done better to take responsibility for your actions, Luciusss. But since you won't, I shall take it for you." Harry cringed, knowing what he would hear next. "AVADA KEDAVRA!" Lucius Malfoy fell to the ground in a lump._

_Narcissa and Draco came running up the stairs. "Father! Father, where are you?"_

_Voldemort turned, and said to Draco, "I would not call him Father if I were you. He has betrayed me. He has received what he deserves."_

_A passionate shriek escaped Narcissa's lips. At that moment, Harry realized that Narcissa loved Lucius with a pure love, even though she did not always agree with his activities. She ran to her husband, now prone, and tried to shake him awake, but he would breathe no more._

"_Perhaps I should take your mother as well, since it seems she has never been strong enough to serve me as her sister did. It's your choice, young Draco … you, or your mother."_

_Draco hesitated – and that was enough for Voldemort. He took the hesitation to mean Draco chose his own life over his mother's. He watched with relish the fear in her eyes as he pointed his wand at her. It was quick. Harry was speechless. But at that moment, Draco fled._

"_That's it – run little boy! Your parents are no longer here to protect you. Run and hide! But I shall find __you!"_

* * *

Harry hadn't re-lived those memories ever before – he had never _wanted_ to re-live them and he had never imagined that he would _need_ to. He thought of his new life with Ginny. How could he manage to keep her safe with all of this going on? Would she be willing to let him take any precautions necessary to keep her and the Weasley family safe? He would have done so anyway, but now, they were his family … his only family. He had to tell her. Everything.

As Harry put the memory back into the hidden recesses of his mind, he couldn't help but wonder where such atrocities would send a seventeen-year-old boy into hiding.


	3. Chapter 3

Chapter 3

_Dementors._ _A Death Eater's mask. Voldemort. Wormtail. Draco Malfoy laughing. Aragog. Basilisk. Dementors. Draco Malfoy in a Dementor's Robe. Sirius. Dementors. Buckbeak. Mum. Dad. Sirius. Dumbledore. Dementors. Draco laughing._

Harry woke with a start, not quite remembering where he was. The pictures continued to flash through his mind, even after waking. As the room slowly came into focus, the mass of red hair next to him rolled away from him. The memory of the wedding, and the honeymoon, quickly brought a broad smile to his face. And just as quickly, his dreams, and his discussions of the night before, brought him back to the moment as a frown creased his brow.

Somehow, Draco Malfoy had information about Harry and Ginny's nuptials that he couldn't possibly have unless he had been there. Harry had not been told which details those were, but the source of the news was extremely reliable. He hadn't had the heart to tell Ginny, but fearing for their safety, he had told her before they fell asleep. Her reaction was not at all surprising.

"Harry Potter," she had said, "don't you even _think_ about trying to deal with this on your own. Draco Malfoy will NOT ruin our happiness – at least not if I have anything to say about it."

It was a very 'Ginny' response, but was it possible that the news had affected her dreams the same way they had his?

Harry rolled out of bed, quickly dressed, and carried his shoes out of the room. He stumbled up the two flights of stairs to Ron's room, and softly knocked on the door. When there was no response, he shook his head in frustration and opened the door. Shaking Ron gently, Harry tried to wake him as quickly but as quietly as possible.

"Wassamatter?"

"We have to get outside and check the grounds. It's only been a few weeks since the wedding, and the weather's been fairly mild here, hasn't it? If anyone was snooping around we should still be able to find some evidence. Maybe it'll give us a clue to how Malfoy knows so much."

"Now? Harry … it's … it's …"

"It's the perfect time … before anyone else is up. We can be back before your mum gets up to make breakfast."

"All right, all right."

Despite his grumbling, Harry was surprised at how quickly Ron got dressed. The two padded down the stairs, and put their shoes on. As they stepped out the door, the sun started to rise on the horizon. Even though it was midsummer, the brisk chill of the morning air was refreshing. The reception tent was still up, and Harry and Ron stood in the center of the tent and looked around. The tent was perched on a rise just a short walk from the Burrow. From their vantage point, the boys could look around and see almost all of the property … even the farthest reaches.

Since his search for the Horcruxes, Harry had been able to sense and see magical auras. As he glanced around, he could see the protective enchantments – their aura was bright and strong. And with all the different spells cast to ward the property, it was difficult for Harry to see any weaknesses. He closed his eyes, and laid his wand flat in his wand hand. "_Locatus_ _Dificiens_." The spell for finding weaknesses was still new to him, he hoped it worked. Harry opened his eyes as he felt his wand spinning in circles on his palm. Ron stared open-mouthed.

* * *

In his London flat, Draco Malfoy sat in silence. He sat in darkness.

The memory of watching his parents die was so vivid. He hadn't slept much in over a year. He looked it too: his eyes were sunken; his once shiny, silky blond hair was now greasy and scraggly.

He was also angry. Angry that Skeeter woman cornered him the way she did. Now everyone knew that, somehow, security at the Potter wedding had been breached, and his little spying locale would be found out. He'd have to find some other way to get news of Potter and his blood-traitor of a wife. With an ironic laugh Draco recalled the wedding, and how no one – not even that werewolf and his lover who were sent to protect the Burrow – detected his presence.

Draco remembered running from Voldemort, and hiding in the tunnels under Hogwarts. He seethed with anger and fear. But no one knew he was there. The only other people who knew about these tunnels were the Weasleys and Potter, and they were nowhere near the school. He had to find a way to learn more about what they were doing. He roamed into the Restricted Section of the library, and pored over volumes that held information on spells and enchantments he had never even dreamed of. It was here that he had found the Animagus Transformation spell. And his Animagus form was easy to choose as well. The memory of that crazy Professor Moody turning him into a ferret was something he'd rather forget, but it helped to fuel his hatred for Potter. After all, if it weren't for Potter, he'd never have been turned into a ferret in the first place.

* * *

Harry's wand did not stop spinning. It did not even slow down. So, Harry thought, either the spell didn't work, or there had been no breach in the protective charms. OK, that was one possibility down. Wards were fine.

Ron shook his head. "Well, I guess that didn't work. What now?"

"Now," Harry replied, "we track. We walk around the grounds to find anything that looks odd or out of place. You go that way. I'll go this way."

Ron nodded and started to walk off, eyes on the ground.

Harry wasn't quite sure what he was looking for, but certain he'd know it when he saw it. At the moment, there wasn't much to see, just lots of grass, and where there was bare ground, footprints from the party remained. Wizard footwear didn't really differ from Muggle footwear too much. Harry chuckled. His Muggle roots and his wizard life converged on footwear.

As he walked along, there were more and more spots of bare ground. Harry looked up and realized that he was coming closer to the edge of the property. Something was nagging at the back of his mind. With difficulty, he pulled his mind away from the nagging, and focused on the ground and environment around him. As he continued along, he suddenly realized what was nagging him. The prints in the dirt had changed! He wasn't quite sure what made the prints he was seeing.

"Ron! Ron, over here!"

Ron came running from the other side of the yard. "What is it? Have you found something?"

"Well, I'm not really sure. Perhaps you could tell me. Do these tracks look familiar?"

Ron looked at the tracks, and tried to remember if he'd seen them before. "Blimey, Harry! I've never seen tracks like that before. Wait … you don't think …"

"I don't know what I think."

Ron was startled from his thoughts by movement from the house. He looked up and saw someone approaching. "Ron! Harry!" she called. "Hello?"

"Hermione! What are you doing here?"

"I wanted to welcome Harry and Ginny back, and in case you don't remember, Ron, you invited me over today. Don't you remember we were going to walk through the peach grove to pick fresh fruit?"

"Oh, right then. Well, there's been a change of plans."

"What? But—"

"Hermione," Harry interrupted, "Malfoy is after me. And somehow, he managed to spy on my wedding, and knew we were out of the country. Didn't you read the latest Skeeter article?"

Hermione nodded. "I had been hoping that it was just rumour. So what are you looking for out here?"

"Any evidence of a security breach the night of the wedding. Only thing I've found so far is an unusual track. Here, in the dirt. Do you recognize it?"

Hermione examined the track. "No, I don't. But maybe we can preserve the print and bring it back to the house. Someone else might recognize it, or we can look it up."

"_Petrificus._"

"Hermione, it's not a person, you can't cast a full-body bind on it!"

"Oh, honestly! 'Petrificus' means to turn to stone. Look!" She reached down, wrapped her hand around the print and quickly lifted it out of the dirt in one piece, fully intact.

Ron looked at Hermione in complete awe. She never ceased to amaze him. But it made him wonder what she saw in him.

"Thanks, Hermione!" Harry exclaimed.

A rumble came from Ron's stomach, and the three friends laughed. "I guess it's time for breakfast. Maybe Mum's awake now."

As they walked down the hill in silence, each of them pondered their own thoughts about how Malfoy could possibly have managed to spy so discreetly when security was so high. Lost in thought, they each stumbled through the door.

* * *

The wonderful smells that greeted them, of eggs and bacon and muffins, were so welcoming. As Harry stepped through the door, his wife stepped in front of him, wrapped her arms around him, and kissed him squarely on the mouth. Harry was only slightly embarrassed, but having his wife's arms around him made him feel much better.

Hermione placed the stone print on the table. "Does this look familiar to anyone?"

Everyone gathered around to look. Charlie walked around the table, examining the print from every angle. A realization finally hit him. "This is no magical creature." He ran from the room and up the stairs.

A moment later, he returned with a large volume which he opened onto the table and started flipping through the pages. Harry observed everyone watching Charlie with interest, and he could see the wheels spinning in Hermione's head. He stood with his arm resting lightly on Ginny's shoulders, but he felt tense nonetheless.

"There it is!" Charlie pointed to a page that showed the very same footprint. It was amazing. It was as if the writer of the book had taken a picture of Hermione's petrified print. "Now, let's see what this little book can tell us about … FERRETS!"

Hermione turned to Arthur. "Mr. Weasley, can you find out if there are any newly registered Animagi?"

Stunned, Ron looked at her. "You don't think …"

"I DO think. The charms wouldn't block out an animal. And it would be just like him."

"Well, Hermione," replied Arthur, "let me see what I can find out."

Harry shook his head in wonder. Ferrets were not found in the wild anywhere near the Burrow. With a chuckle, he thought how very shrewd it was of Malfoy to learn the Animagus Transformation. It was the only explanation.

"Come," said Molly to the crowded kitchen. "Let's eat. Breakfast is getting cold, and it's not going to get any warmer with you lot just standing around."


	4. Chapter 4

Chapter 4

As expected, Arthur's research into registered Animagi did not turn up anything that Hermione hadn't already guessed. No new Animagi registered recently, and that could only mean one thing … there was one more unregistered Animagus running around. Actually, Hermione hadn't really said with certainty that Malfoy was an Animagus, although her tone boasted a confidence that was very common to a "Hermione-has-the-right-answer" situation. They would find a way to confirm it.

* * *

Draco was starving, and his flat seemed to be closing in on him. He hadn't had much of an appetite for days, but knowing that Potter was back in England, he was getting hungry. Hungry for food, and hungry for a resolution to his burning desire for revenge. He had no way – without going to the Burrow – of knowing what was going on with Potter, except what he read in the papers. Potter was back in England, and speculation was that he and the new Mrs. Potter were hoping to settle somewhere close to London – perhaps even in Diagon Alley. The big trick would be heading back to the Burrow without being seen, to get more information. There was no way to know if the charms that were put in place for the wedding were still there.

It was too bad that Crabbe and Goyle had not survived the war as well as they should have. They were pure-bloods, after all. How could they have let themselves be permanently cursed? Draco shook his head thinking about it. His flunkies, while not the brightest, were always willing to do what was asked. Yet, they were never much for ideas. Wishing he had someone to bounce his thoughts off brought Pansy Parkinson to mind. At school she had clung to him quite a bit more than he really desired, but she was always good for a bit of physical comfort. And her ideas usually had merit. But he had burned that bridge during the war. Surely, she wouldn't want to hear from him now. He had treated her pretty thoughtlessly, he knew, but she was just a silly girl; he didn't have time for meaningless relationships during the war. She should have known that.

He left his flat and headed for Diagon Alley. He got to the Leaky Cauldron, and decided to sit in the corner and think about how he would get back to the Burrow. As a ferret, it would take some time to get there. But could he risk Apparating to Ottery St. Catchpole and then transfiguring? Old Tom, the barkeep, brought him a Butterbeer and offered him a table in the middle of the room, but Draco pointed to the dark corner, wanting to avoid notice as much as possible.

It sickened Draco to know that Harry Potter was the last person to see his father alive. How he would exact his revenge, he really had no idea. Crabbe and Goyle were in St. Mungo's permanent spell-damage ward and would not be able to help him once he had formulated a plan. Maybe Pansy … but no. She had gone out of her way to avoid Draco since he left school. The way he had treated her was necessary at the time and he knew that. But would she understand? Could he ever make her see that it had been the only way?

* * *

_"Draco, I have tried to understand."_

_"Pansy, there is nothing you can do to help. I need to do this alone."_

_"But why?_ _Why can't you let me try to help?"_

_"You wouldn't understand. Besides, I don't want or need anyone's help."_

* * *

"DRACO! _The Dark Lord will never leave you alone. If Harry Potter succeeds, it is your only chance __of living!"_

_"I don't know how to tell you this, Pansy, but I don't care. There is no one worth living for, anyway."_

_Pansy's face had turned red, and tears started to fill her eyes._

_"No, not even you Pansy. All that matters is that my father and mother are dead, and it's all Potter's fault."_

_"But Draco –"_

_"No Pansy. I have no need of you. Just go. Leave me alone."_

* * *

Harry and Ginny were discussing how to spend the day. They couldn't really protect themselves against Malfoy when they didn't have the faintest clue what to expect, but they could easily find a way to spend some time together. They strolled up the hill to their favorite tree; Harry conjured a soft picnic blanket, and the two of them lay down side by side to watch the clouds pass the sun.

Ginny turned to look at Harry, and he knew that she'd be able to see that look in his eye that said he had the weight of the world on his shoulders. He hated to make her sad like this; she always knew how he was feeling and, though they had never been able to explain it, what one felt, the other felt. In some ways, it was as if they were twins.

"Harry, Draco can't hurt you here."

Not exactly ignoring her words, Harry pondered other things. "Have you ever wondered what it would be like to live a blissfully ignorant existence? I mean, if your family had never told us about Draco, we would have continued our honeymoon here at the Burrow until we had a place of our own. We wouldn't be worrying about Draco and we'd be able to think about having a family of our own."

"Harry, you know that's not possible. You've never had the luxury of blissful ignorance. For the few years of your life that you were ignorant, we all know it wasn't blissful. Since then, you've never been ignorant. Draco can never take what we share away from us."

"I know that. But he might try to take you away from me. Or me away from you."

"But we're in this together, Harry. Together, Draco can never defeat us."

"But—"

"But nothing. You defeated Voldemort. Draco would need to have a fairly puffed-up opinion of himself to think he could take you down."

Harry looked at his new wife, adoration clearly showing in his eyes. She was beautiful when she was angry. That fire of fury was probably one of the things that attracted him to her in the first place … the fact that she could stand up for herself without any help from anyone else. After all, Harry thought, she may be the only Weasley girl, but she also never felt fear.

"Let's not think about Draco just now." Harry wrapped his arms around Ginny, and leaned down to kiss her. With the beautiful sunset, and his wife in his arms, there was no way Harry could deny the happiness that filled him.

* * *

As Draco watched the patrons of the Leaky Cauldron come and go, he couldn't help but notice how happy everyone looked. No one seemed to have a care in the world. He knew it was because the Dark Lord was gone. One more thing he could blame on Potter. He watched as Blaise Zabini escorted Daphne Greengrass into the Cauldron. They were a good pure-blood couple. But they, too, seemed happy. Did no one feel loss at the defeat of Lord Voldemort? Did no one care that the pure-bloods lost the war? The more he observed, the more he needed someone to talk to. Perhaps he should swallow his pride and contact Pansy.

He paid Tom, and walked through the back door, out through the archway into Diagon Alley. Once there, he found himself spinning and, with a pop, Disapparated.

Spinning into view, Draco found himself outside the Hog's Head in Hogsmeade. He felt like he was walking in a daze, with random images invading his mind. First Pansy, then Potter. Then his father and mother, then the Dark Lord. Then back to Pansy. He found himself outside Scrivenshaft's, not really knowing what his plan was. Apparently, entering the shop and purchasing some parchment, a quill and some ink was the right thing to do.

Walking out of the shop with his purchases, he headed up the street to the Three Broomsticks. Madam Rosmerta recognized him from his school years, and greeted him kindly, although she did keep a watchful eye on him. Draco sipped his Butterbeer, and began to think. How should he begin? What did he want to say to Pansy?

Well, it was obvious that he wanted to talk to her. He should definitely let her know that. "What else?" he thought. Perhaps he should explain his actions during the war? "No. She should know. I should not have to explain myself to anyone!" And yet … Pansy might not receive his attempts to contact her if she didn't have an explanation. And really, Pansy as a sounding board was what he needed. Maybe for this … maybe to just get her to listen …

_Dear Pansy_ _I don't know how to begin. I need to see you. I'm sure you are surprised to hear from me, and no doubt you'd rather burn this parchment than respond to it. Please don't. You need to understand some things. I need to explain. And I need to know what you're doing and thinking. _ _I need to see you._ _Draco_

Draco rolled up the parchment, and sealed it. He sat finishing his drink, and watched the patrons come and go. He didn't recognize anyone, and hoped he wouldn't see anyone from Hogwarts. He finished his drink and headed for the Post Office. As he left the pub, head down, he bumped into someone, but did not turn to see who it was, nor to apologize.

Leaving the Post Office, Draco shuddered. He had never been this unsure about something he'd done; not even about trying to kill Dumbledore. It was a good thing the message was sent or he might have changed his mind. He felt very uncomfortable about the power he'd just handed over to Pansy – he didn't know what he'd do if she refused to see him.


	5. Chapter 5

Chapter 5

Pansy Parkinson sat in the Three Broomsticks. Her arrival at the popular hang-out was heralded by a rude welcome from a man who pushed roughly past her, knocking her into a nearby patron, and continued on his way. No word of apology, no look of concern. As she watched him leave, his stride and the way his shoulders were hunched reminded her of Draco Malfoy. She shook her head; Draco would not have bumped into her without apology, surely. But the whole episode made Pansy start to wonder.

Sipping her red currant rum, she looked down at her robes, covered and stained with something; gillywater, most likely. Pansy had apologized to the man she was knocked into, the man who had spilled his drink on her. But who had bumped her in the first place? _People can be so rude_, she thought. _I hope he gets trampled by lumbering troll._

Having finished her drink, Pansy headed out the door. She walked up the street, towards Hogsmeade Station, and decided to point herself homeward. As she walked, an owl came swooping down to her, delivering what appeared to be a letter. Pansy froze. She immediately recognized the fine script as Draco's. _That prat_, she thought. So why was her heart pounding three times faster?

She sat down on a nearby bench and began to read.

As she finished reading, the tears were streaming down her cheeks. _Why on earth am I crying?_ she thought. _Draco is certainly not deserving of MY tears. _But, as she regained her composure, she realized that maybe she really did want to see him. It was difficult enough to read his letter, but thinking about how to respond was even harder.

When they were in school together, Pansy had looked on Draco as a possible life mate. They were both from good, pure-blood families. And they were both in Slytherin House. But as the years moved on, their relationship became more of a master–servant relationship, although not as clearly defined. Pansy was never able to resist Draco's requests. And really, they were more demands than requests. But she acquiesced on every occasion. He allowed her to fawn over him, and be his arm decoration, and she really knew that's all she was. But, as they say, hope springs eternal, and Pansy was ever the hopeful lapdog, just waiting for a crumb of admiration from Draco.

When that fiasco with Professor Dumbledore happened, Draco had left. Not a word was spoken, written or Floo'd to her. Professor Snape had disappeared as well, and no one knew what had happened to either of them.

Once the war escalated to the all-out battle that ended the Dark Lord's life, Draco reappeared. He was a little more haggard than Pansy had remembered him, but he came looking for her, and his two thugs, Crabbe and Goyle. She gladly went to fight by his side. But that wasn't what he came for. He simply wanted to say good-bye. He had too much to plan for, and think about, with that Potter fool running loose. He had made it clear that he had no time for her, and her silly girlish hopes.

And that was it.

When Pansy was told of the death of his parents, her thoughts immediately went to him, and what she could do to ease his suffering. But he wanted no part of her. Try though she might, he continued to dismiss her as unnecessary in his life.

And so she finally gave up.

But now. She was willing to open up. A little. But should she? She was curious to hear what he had to say. And it seemed so strange to her to receive a letter like this from him. But, Draco … she was still a girl, after all. And, for better or worse, still pining over the memory of a boy who, at one time, let her be his friend.

Pansy continued to sit, wondering where to begin. At any rate, she needed a quill and parchment. It gave her some time to think while she tried to put her hands on them. Her feelings were mixed. Part of her wanted to be cruel in her response, show Draco how angry she was, hurt him the way he'd hurt her. The other part of her wanted to jump at the chance to see him again.


	6. Chapter 6

Chapter 6

Stepping off the Tube, clutching Hermione's hand, Ron seemed terrified. "Oh, come ON, Ron!" exclaimed Hermione. "You've ridden the train before. My parents are waiting. Look!" Hermione had spotted her parents just a few feet ahead, smiling and waving.

"Hello, Ron. It is so good of you to join Hermione for a few days," greeted Hermione's mother.

Ron smiled awkwardly. "Anything for Hermione. I just wish we could have, you know, Apparated or something."

"Ron," Hermione replied, "you know we can't use magic in public in Muggle London."

Her parents chuckled. By now they were used to their daughter bickering with her beau – it didn't mean they were aggravating each other; it was just the way they talked.

"Well," said Hermione's father, "now that you're here, your mother and I were thinking we'd grab a bite to eat. There's a good pub up the road and I think they are known for those chips you fell in love with last time you were here, Ron."

Ron cheered. "Absolutely. Let's go."

The walk to The Stout Yard was uneventful. Ron noted, as he always did, that Muggles really weren't all that different from wizards. Their clothing was a bit daft, but these jeans he was wearing were really quite comfortable. Maybe they'd catch on in the wizarding world as well.

They arrived at the pub, and entered the dark room. It was a bit smoky but the noise of existing chatter did not stop with their entry. Mr. Granger escorted his wife, daughter and Ron to an empty table where they sank into the soft leather benches and finally began to relax.

"So, what's the news, my dear? How's your friend Harry? Are he and Ginny enjoying married life?" Only questions a mother could ask, but Hermione and Ron just looked at each other, wondering how to answer. "Oh come now, it can't be that bad. Tell Mum what's new."

"Well," began Hermione, "Harry and Ginny had a grand time on their honeymoon. They were well rested and looked alive with love when I saw them."

"Oh, that's just smashing. I'm so glad. That poor boy has been through so much." And then turning to Ron, "It's a good thing your sister has been there for him. I don't know what would have happened had she not."

Ron simply nodded.

Dinner was absolutely delicious. Ron always liked eating the Muggle food that Hermione's parents introduced him to, and fish and chips was no exception. This time, he was brave enough to add the malt vinegar and it really brought out the flavor of the meal. Smacking his lips, he sat back and, resting his arm around Hermione, sighed in contentment.

Sipping her cider, Hermione was happy. It was hard not to be when surrounded by her three favorite people. That made it all the more difficult to tell them what she thought they had a right to know. "Mum, Dad," she began, "there's something we need to tell you about Harry."

Her parents looked a bit apprehensive. Hermione had a tendency to start off heavy discussions somewhat lightly, and then dive into intense topics. "Everything is all right with him, dear, isn't it?" her mother asked.

"Yeah, super," said Ron, sarcastically. "Malfoy's just blaming him for the death of his parents."

Hermione's father looked incredulous. "You're joking." It was not a question, but more a statement of disbelief. "Isn't Malfoy the young man at school who always gave you a hard time, Hermione?"

"Yes, he is. And I think Ron's summation was a bit lacking in its explanation." She glanced at Ron, who rolled his eyes. "Draco Malfoy seems to feel that, if it weren't for Harry, both his parents would be alive right now. He's taken it upon himself to avenge their deaths. Since Voldemort, the one responsible for their deaths, is gone, he's going after Harry. The biggest problem right now is he's found a way to infiltrate the Burrow and is getting information about Harry's whereabouts without anyone knowing how. At least he WAS getting information. There has been nothing new to indicate he's been spying since the wedding."

"And no one knows how he is getting this information?"

"Unfortunately, no, Mum. But we're all working on it to find out."

"It's not dangerous, is it?"

Ron chuckled. "Whenever Harry is involved, it's dangerous. But we're all right. We've got Hermione on our side, and that's a lot more than Malfoy's got."

* * *

Draco sat in his flat. He had written to Pansy three days ago, and still had not heard anything from her. _It's just as well,_ he thought. And really, he had not been expecting a response. Still, he was feeling restless. He began to pace his sitting room, glancing out the window every now and again. His London flat looked out over a cobblestone street. There was not a tremendous amount of traffic, but every now and again, passers-by could be heard, their laughter tinkling up through the window.

At the corner of his street was a popular pub, The Stout Yard by name. The Muggles seemed to really enjoy the fish and chips served there. He'd eaten there once or twice, but found it difficult to enjoy the food that was not prepared by wand. Even so, their chips were delicious. He would never admit to enjoying Muggle food to anyone; he had a hard enough time admitting it to himself. And he was feeling a bit hungry. Unfortunately, he was also feeling that until he knew for sure whether Pansy would reject him, he would not be able to keep any food down, and he had no desire to clean up _that_ mess.

Instead, he conjured a fire and sat reading the _Daily Prophet_. It was the issue with his Rita Skeeter interview. The old bat had let loose that he had been at the Potter wedding. Oh, not in so many words, but he'd given her details that no one could have known unless they were there. How had he been so stupid?

Once again, Draco thought of his parents. The blank look in his father's eyes just before Draco fled only angered him toward Potter all over again. And now, seeing Potter and the red-head, smiling on the cover of the _Prophet _just made him even angrier. He tore his eyes from the photo in the paper when suddenly the glass windowpane in his sitting room shattered. Without a thought, he waved his wand and, with a quick _Reparo,_ the window was whole again.

* * *

After enjoying a few days with the Grangers, Ron and Hermione headed back to the Tube. They passed The Stout Yard, and Ron looked longingly at the door as it opened and closed for the patrons coming and going, the smell of fish and chips wafting out into the street.

"No, Ron. We have to go. Harry will want our help. We should be there."

The pair continued past the pub and up the street toward the Tube.

Hermione suddenly stopped; her magic-detecting antennae had been tickled. They hadn't been looking for any magic, but that familiar feeling from the hunt of the Horcruxes had returned. Glancing up and down the street, she noticed a shattered window in an upper storey. The magic felt like it was coming from there. She nudged Ron, pointing up to the window, but by the time Ron's eyes found it, the window was intact.

Hermione felt frustrated, not being able to show Ron what she had felt. Ron never had been very good at detecting magic without the help of devices from Dervish and Banges. As they reached the entrance to the Tube, she tucked this bit of magic information away to research later.


	7. Chapter 7

Chapter 8

"I just don't understand why you feel you need to be out on your own. Especially at a time like this." Molly was referring to the rumours of Draco Malfoy wanting to exact his revenge on Harry.

"Mum, I know this is difficult for you to understand, but we'll be right near Fred and George," Ginny protested.

Harry looked at Molly, pleadingly. "Mrs. Weasley … Mum … I need to be able to stand on my own two feet. With Ginny, I can. Together, she and I will support and protect each other. Draco will not get to me."

"Molly, I've already had the Floo Regulation Panel limit their fireplace to the Burrow, the twins' shop, and their flat, and McGonagall's office." Arthur was surprised at the confidence in his own voice.

"So you're all right with this? You WANT them to go?"

"Molly, I'm not saying that I won't miss them, but I think it's time we let them go … after all, we DO want grandchildren someday, don't we?" With a twinkle in his eye, he glanced at Ginny and Harry, smiling.

Harry breathed a bit easier, drawing his wife a little closer to him. Arthur had always felt that he, Harry, could handle more than Molly, with her maternal instincts, believed he could.

* * *

"Keep up, Ron!" exclaimed Hermione.

Ron trailed after Hermione, wondering what her hurry was. The streets of Muggle London were quite crowded this time of day, with people heading to the Tube to go home at the end of their long work day.

"Hermione, can we eat?" Ron pointed to The Stout Yard. The thought of fish and chips made his mouth water and only exacerbated his hunger.

She nodded, as they made their way up the street. "It will give us a chance to observe the street. I could have sworn there was a bit of magic used last time we were here."

* * *

Harry and Ginny were walking the grounds of the Burrow one last time before they moved. The sun was setting, and the golden glow it cast over the yard was oddly disquieting. It was almost as if time were about to stand still.

"Are you having second thoughts, Harry?" Ginny asked, trying to look into his eyes. "You seem deep in thought."

"What's that?" Harry seemed very distracted. "Oh. I suppose I am. Deep in thought."

"Well, are you, then?"

"Am I what?"

"Are you having second thoughts? About the move, I mean."

"Absolutely not, Ginny." Harry replied. "I couldn't be happier about moving into our own place. We're all ready to go, aren't we?"

Their stroll through the garden had led them back to the house, and Harry was now anxious for them to be on their way. But before Ginny could answer, they felt a _pop_, indicating the arrival of an Apparated wizard. Or in this case, two.

Harry looked up into the smiling faces of Fred and George. "What are you two doing here?"

"We came to escort you to your new flat, of course." The grins on their faces belied the worry that sat on their minds.

Ginny grimaced. "Escort us?"

"Well," George started, "Mum wanted us to meet you at your flat, but –"

"– but we thought you wouldn't like THAT surprise, so we decided to meet you here," finished Fred.

Harry glanced at Ginny, and she nodded to him, indicating that she was okay with this. Then he took her hand and followed Fred and George, who had already gone into the house.

* * *

Stepping out of The Stout Yard, Ron glanced up and down the street. He and Hermione had decided they would go for a walk to see if they could find any remnants of magic use. His skill at seeing magical auras, or even traces of magical energy, was quite lacking when compared with Hermione.

He felt Hermione grab his hand and they started up the street. "I'm positive I felt something this way last time."

Ron just shook his head. "I don't know, Hermione. I just don't know. You know I can't judge these things."

Suddenly, Hermione pointed. "What's that?"

* * *

Harry had packed all his belongings in his old school trunk, and then cast a Reducing Charm on the whole lot. After all these years as a wizard, he still found it amazing that he could fit all his things in the palm of his hand, and now in his pocket. He assumed Ginny had cast the same charm on the things she was taking with her to the flat, as she came out empty handed.

"Ready, lovebirds?" Fred teased. He was standing by the fireplace, and Harry could see his fingers itching to toss the Floo Powder into the fire.

"Where's George?" he asked.

"Oh, he's gone ahead to make sure the flat is ready for you."

"Wait!" came a shout from the kitchen. A few moments later, Molly and Arthur came running through the door. "I need to give my baby a hug and a kiss." And then turning to Harry she said, "And take this stew. I'm sure you'll be hungry before long." She handed Harry a bowl, which seemed cool to the touch. He hoped Ginny knew the best way to heat it up, because he was quite sure he would be hungry later.

Ginny was rolling her eyes as her mother embraced her tightly, but Harry could see relief in her posture. He knew she was glad to be connected by fireplace. "Do you think I can carry Ginny over a Floo threshold?"

Arthur shook his head. "It's too dangerous. I'm sorry, Harry."

After endless hugs from Molly, and shaking of hands with his father-in-law, Harry nodded to Fred to toss the powder. Ginny stepped forward into the fireplace and said resolutely, "Potter Place." And with that, she was gone.

"You next, Harry," said Fred with a grin. "Don't want to leave your bride waiting, do you?"

Harry waved, and disappeared into the fire, followed by Fred.

* * *

With a few tears in her eyes, Molly looked up at Arthur. "Do you really think they will be all right?"

* * *

George was waiting anxiously, unsure how much longer it would be before his sister and brother-in-law arrived. He looked around the flat, put the last few finishing touches in place, and sat in front of the fireplace.

_Whoosh_!

Ginny tumbled out of the fireplace, calm and cool as always, and stepped aside to make way for Harry and Fred.

Once Harry and Fred had followed Ginny out of the fireplace, the four stood around; apparently they were all at a loss for words.

"Well, uh …" Harry started.

"You've done what Mum's asked. Can we be alone now?" Ginny was feeling a bit restive, anxious to have her husband to herself.

Exchanging knowing glances, Fred and George tossed some powder in the fireplace and left the couple to themselves.

* * *

Ron looked up, wondering what Hermione could possibly be pointing at. There was a building ahead, and the air around it seemed to shimmer, like the air around a fire. It was clearly magical, and Ron tensed as Hermione walked towards it.

"Just where do you think you're going?" he demanded, grabbing her wrist to prevent her from moving forward.

"Ron, I just want to see …" she replied, wrenching her arm away. "There's never been a history of magic in this part of the city. I've read all about it in _The Secret Underground: London's Wizarding History_. Someone's here, and I'm determined to find out who."

Ron followed. "Do you think … do you think it's Malfoy?"

"I'm not sure what I think. He's certainly in hiding, and who would expect to find him in Muggle London?"

As the pair neared the building, the air around them seemed to pulse with energy. Looking up and down the street to be sure no one was around, Hermione pulled out her wand. Before it cleared her pocket, sparks escaped the tip, and she shoved it right back. "There is definitely magic here. I wonder," she mused, looking at the list of residents at the buzzer, "who exactly lives here."

Ron glanced at the list. "Peters, Smith, Croam, Forsyth … I don't recognize any of these names, Hermione."

"Nor do I, Ron," she replied, "nor do I. But it has to be ONE of these people. The center of the energy is definitely this building.

"Floyd A. Croam. There's something odd about that name."

As usual, Ron looked at Hermione as if she were loopy. "Oh. Right. Like we have ever known someone named Croam."

"But, Ron, don't you see? It's an anagram."

"A what?"

"An anagram. It's when you rearrange letters in a word, or group of words, to create another word or group of words."

"You mean like Riddle did?"

"Exactly!"

"So what's Croam?"

"Draco Malfoy!"


	8. Chapter 8

Chapter 8

"I just don't understand why you feel you need to be out on your own. Especially at a time like this." Molly was referring to the rumours of Draco Malfoy wanting to exact his revenge on Harry.

"Mum, I know this is difficult for you to understand, but we'll be right near Fred and George," Ginny protested.

Harry looked at Molly, pleadingly. "Mrs. Weasley … Mum … I need to be able to stand on my own two feet. With Ginny, I can. Together, she and I will support and protect each other. Draco will not get to me."

"Molly, I've already had the Floo Regulation Panel limit their fireplace to the Burrow, the twins' shop, and their flat, and McGonagall's office." Arthur was surprised at the confidence in his own voice.

"So you're all right with this? You WANT them to go?"

"Molly, I'm not saying that I won't miss them, but I think it's time we let them go … after all, we DO want grandchildren someday, don't we?" With a twinkle in his eye, he glanced at Ginny and Harry, smiling.

Harry breathed a bit easier, drawing his wife a little closer to him. Arthur had always felt that he, Harry, could handle more than Molly, with her maternal instincts, believed he could.

* * *

"Keep up, Ron!" exclaimed Hermione.

Ron trailed after Hermione, wondering what her hurry was. The streets of Muggle London were quite crowded this time of day, with people heading to the Tube to go home at the end of their long work day.

"Hermione, can we eat?" Ron pointed to The Stout Yard. The thought of fish and chips made his mouth water and only exacerbated his hunger.

She nodded, as they made their way up the street. "It will give us a chance to observe the street. I could have sworn there was a bit of magic used last time we were here."

* * *

Harry and Ginny were walking the grounds of the Burrow one last time before they moved. The sun was setting, and the golden glow it cast over the yard was oddly disquieting. It was almost as if time were about to stand still.

"Are you having second thoughts, Harry?" Ginny asked, trying to look into his eyes. "You seem deep in thought."

"What's that?" Harry seemed very distracted. "Oh. I suppose I am. Deep in thought."

"Well, are you, then?"

"Am I what?"

"Are you having second thoughts? About the move, I mean."

"Absolutely not, Ginny." Harry replied. "I couldn't be happier about moving into our own place. We're all ready to go, aren't we?"

Their stroll through the garden had led them back to the house, and Harry was now anxious for them to be on their way. But before Ginny could answer, they felt a _pop_, indicating the arrival of an Apparated wizard. Or in this case, two.

Harry looked up into the smiling faces of Fred and George. "What are you two doing here?"

"We came to escort you to your new flat, of course." The grins on their faces belied the worry that sat on their minds.

Ginny grimaced. "Escort us?"

"Well," George started, "Mum wanted us to meet you at your flat, but –"

"– but we thought you wouldn't like THAT surprise, so we decided to meet you here," finished Fred.

Harry glanced at Ginny, and she nodded to him, indicating that she was okay with this. Then he took her hand and followed Fred and George, who had already gone into the house.

* * *

Stepping out of The Stout Yard, Ron glanced up and down the street. He and Hermione had decided they would go for a walk to see if they could find any remnants of magic use. His skill at seeing magical auras, or even traces of magical energy, was quite lacking when compared with Hermione.

He felt Hermione grab his hand and they started up the street. "I'm positive I felt something this way last time."

Ron just shook his head. "I don't know, Hermione. I just don't know. You know I can't judge these things."

Suddenly, Hermione pointed. "What's that?"

* * *

Harry had packed all his belongings in his old school trunk, and then cast a Reducing Charm on the whole lot. After all these years as a wizard, he still found it amazing that he could fit all his things in the palm of his hand, and now in his pocket. He assumed Ginny had cast the same charm on the things she was taking with her to the flat, as she came out empty handed.

"Ready, lovebirds?" Fred teased. He was standing by the fireplace, and Harry could see his fingers itching to toss the Floo Powder into the fire.

"Where's George?" he asked.

"Oh, he's gone ahead to make sure the flat is ready for you."

"Wait!" came a shout from the kitchen. A few moments later, Molly and Arthur came running through the door. "I need to give my baby a hug and a kiss." And then turning to Harry she said, "And take this stew. I'm sure you'll be hungry before long." She handed Harry a bowl, which seemed cool to the touch. He hoped Ginny knew the best way to heat it up, because he was quite sure he would be hungry later.

Ginny was rolling her eyes as her mother embraced her tightly, but Harry could see relief in her posture. He knew she was glad to be connected by fireplace. "Do you think I can carry Ginny over a Floo threshold?"

Arthur shook his head. "It's too dangerous. I'm sorry, Harry."

After endless hugs from Molly, and shaking of hands with his father-in-law, Harry nodded to Fred to toss the powder. Ginny stepped forward into the fireplace and said resolutely, "Potter Place." And with that, she was gone.

"You next, Harry," said Fred with a grin. "Don't want to leave your bride waiting, do you?"

Harry waved, and disappeared into the fire, followed by Fred.

* * *

With a few tears in her eyes, Molly looked up at Arthur. "Do you really think they will be all right?"

* * *

George was waiting anxiously, unsure how much longer it would be before his sister and brother-in-law arrived. He looked around the flat, put the last few finishing touches in place, and sat in front of the fireplace.

_Whoosh_!

Ginny tumbled out of the fireplace, calm and cool as always, and stepped aside to make way for Harry and Fred.

Once Harry and Fred had followed Ginny out of the fireplace, the four stood around; apparently they were all at a loss for words.

"Well, uh …" Harry started.

"You've done what Mum's asked. Can we be alone now?" Ginny was feeling a bit restive, anxious to have her husband to herself.

Exchanging knowing glances, Fred and George tossed some powder in the fireplace and left the couple to themselves.

* * *

Ron looked up, wondering what Hermione could possibly be pointing at. There was a building ahead, and the air around it seemed to shimmer, like the air around a fire. It was clearly magical, and Ron tensed as Hermione walked towards it.

"Just where do you think you're going?" he demanded, grabbing her wrist to prevent her from moving forward.

"Ron, I just want to see …" she replied, wrenching her arm away. "There's never been a history of magic in this part of the city. I've read all about it in _The Secret Underground: London's Wizarding History_. Someone's here, and I'm determined to find out who."

Ron followed. "Do you think … do you think it's Malfoy?"

"I'm not sure what I think. He's certainly in hiding, and who would expect to find him in Muggle London?"

As the pair neared the building, the air around them seemed to pulse with energy. Looking up and down the street to be sure no one was around, Hermione pulled out her wand. Before it cleared her pocket, sparks escaped the tip, and she shoved it right back. "There is definitely magic here. I wonder," she mused, looking at the list of residents at the buzzer, "who exactly lives here."

Ron glanced at the list. "Peters, Smith, Croam, Forsyth … I don't recognize any of these names, Hermione."

"Nor do I, Ron," she replied, "nor do I. But it has to be ONE of these people. The center of the energy is definitely this building.

"Floyd A. Croam. There's something odd about that name."

As usual, Ron looked at Hermione as if she were loopy. "Oh. Right. Like we have ever known someone named Croam."

"But, Ron, don't you see? It's an anagram."

"A what?"

"An anagram. It's when you rearrange letters in a word, or group of words, to create another word or group of words."

"You mean like Riddle did?"

"Exactly!"

"So what's Croam?"

"Draco Malfoy!"


	9. Chapter 9

hapter 9 _The Boy Who Lived – Fact or Fiction  
By Rita Skeeter_ _What has happened to Harry Potter? Lord Voldemort is gone, and now Harry Potter is missing. Did he really survive? Was he really the Chosen_ _One? We all, especially you, my faithful readers, deserve to know the truth!_ _Harry Potter, only a year ago relieved of battle strain, married just a month ago, has now gone missing. No one knows where he is, or who he is with. His wife, and long time girlfriend, Ginevra Potter (nee Weasley), seems to have disappeared with him. When speaking with best friend and acknowledged intellectual Hermione Granger, this reporter was told that under no uncertain terms would the whereabouts of the Potters be revealed. It seems obvious that they are hiding something._ _It is well known that Harry Potter is very involved with Weasleys' Wizard Wheezes, and Rita Skeeter took a little trip to the successful business to speak with the proprietors, Fred and George Weasley. Their lips were as tightly sealed as a Gringott's vault. _ "_Harry?" asked Fred. "We haven't seen him –"_ "– _for ages!" completed George._ _This reporter will find out. Stay tuned!_

Harry put the paper down, shaking his head. Ginny brought him a cup of coffee.

"That Skeeter witch doesn't know what she's in for," cried Ginny. "Who does she think she is, anyway, interrogating Fred and George like that?"

"Speaking of Fred and George …" Harry nodded towards the fireplace.

"Sorry, little sister. Don't mean to barge in." Fred helped himself to some sausages.

"That Skeeter bug left out the fact that we asked her who she thought she was to be privy to that information," George stated. "Hey Fred, maybe we should start our own paper. We could call it …"

"…_The Anti-Skeeter Weekly_!"

* * *

"Hermione," Ron began, "we found a building where we think Malfoy is living. Shouldn't we notify the Ministry or something?"

"Oh Ron! How could you even suggest that? The only person who can get to Minister Shacklebolt is Harry, and he's certainly not going to ask for help."

"But –"

"That said, this is not the sort of thing the Ministry would be able to help us with. We've got no evidence to have Malfoy charged with anything, so the Department of Magical Law Enforcement would have their hands tied.. We're going to have to take care of this ourselves."

With a soft look at Ron, Hermione led them to the Tube. Their friends would be at The Stout Yard by one o'clock, and she didn't want to be late. It was already almost noon and they still didn't know how they would be able to catch Malfoy off guard.

"Oh, I do hope Ginny and Harry haven't forgotten about lunch." Hermione fretted.

"Well," replied Ron, "we could always turn back and send them an owl."

* * *

"Sorry, mate," mumbled Fred, through a mouthful of scrambled eggs. "I don't think you'll be able to hide out much longer."

Harry looked at Ginny, who exclaimed, "We are NOT hiding out."

"Well, sis," replied George, "from the looks of it, no one can find you but us Weasleys."

"You know we'll keep your whereabouts secret –"

"– but the world wants its hero. You can't hide out forever."

Harry had been silent throughout the exchange. Staring at a spot on the table, he just shook his head. "When did we begin hiding out? We've moved. We didn't tell anyone where we were going, but we didn't hide it either. And the Ministry knows where we are. They are the ones who set up the secure Floo to this location."

Ginny put her hand on Harry's shoulder. "Fred, we aren't _really_ hiding out. As a matter of fact we are meeting Ron and Hermione for lunch on Saturday."

"But, Ginny, today IS Saturday," Fred pointed out.

Incredulous, Ginny jumped up from her seat. "Oh dear! We need to get ready. Knowing Hermione, they've been there an hour already."

Harry started to chuckle, despite the morose feelings of _what on earth happened to my life_ that plagued him at moments like this, and he hurried down the hallway to change his clothes.

"Hey, Ginny!" George called from the kitchen. "Where's lunch? I'm starving."

Harry, freshly dressed in casual Muggle clothes, came back to the kitchen and told the twins that they were meeting Ron and Hermione at a Muggle pub. "Ron can't stop raving about the fish and chips at this place."

"Fish and chips, you say." Fred looked at George, raising his eyebrows in a mischievous grin. "I think you need a personal escort. And someone to test your food to make sure it isn't poisoned."

Ginny appeared from the bedroom, now, dressed and ready for an afternoon in London. "I'm not sure –"

"Oh, come now, Ginny," persuaded George. "Ron and Hermione would love to see us. It's been so long."

"I know," said Fred. "It's been a whole … DAY since we've seen them."

"Oh, all right," Ginny relented. "I suppose you can join us."

* * *

Upon arriving at The Stout Yard, Ron quickly entered and secured a booth towards the back of the pub. It was dark and smoky, as usual, but the heavenly smells that emanated from the kitchen distracted him from their real task, and he would get nothing done until he had some food in his belly.

Hermione, on the other hand, took a moment to glance up and down the street. She cast her magical detection spell, but could detect nothing, in either direction. It was just as well, she supposed. It would give Harry and Ginny some time to get there, and some time for her to explain everything before they all went running off to greet Floyd A. Croam.

* * *

Harry and Ginny walked up the stairs from the Tube, followed by George and Fred.

"That was EXCELLENT!" exclaimed the twins. They had apparently never ridden the Underground in London before, and like their father, were as fascinated with Muggle invention and discovery as he was.

Ginny looked down the street. "Not much of a neighborhood is it?"

"Well, the best pubs are found in the most unlikely places." Harry replied.

"And besides," added Fred, "who are we to talk about residential neighborhood quality?"

"No, I didn't mean –" Ginny started. "What I meant was, if Draco is living here, wouldn't that surprise you? Is Hermione sure of what she's found?"

"There's only one way to find out, Mrs. Potter." Harry held open the door to The Stout Yard.

Ginny ducked inside, while Fred and George insisted Harry enter before them.

* * *

Hermione looked up to see two red heads she had not been expecting. She nudged Ron under the table.

"Harry! Ginny!" She waved the group toward the back of the pub. "Hello Fred … George. I wasn't expecting to see you today."

"Well, we heard a rumour about some amazing fish and chips." George smiled.

"We thought if ickle Ronniekins likes them, we'd probably like them as well," added Fred.

"And there was no way –" started George.

"– NO WAY –" added Fred.

"– we were letting Ron be the only one to enjoy good food," finished George.

Hermione smiled ruefully, as she noticed a scowl on Ron's face. She recalled how much he enjoyed having something fabulous all to himself, and now he'd have to share. Poor Ron.

In a very quick minute, the waiter arrived, took their order, returned with a round of ales and left them alone to their conversation. Hermione noted that Fred and George were impressed with the service. And she was pleased that they were enjoying Muggle London.

As they enjoyed their meal, Hermione outlined what they had discovered: that there was magic in use in a building up the street and that they suspected it was Draco Malfoy. And also that she and Ron were fairly sure he was going by the pseudonym of Floyd A. Croam.

"Hermione, have I told you lately how completely and utterly amazing you are?" Harry surprised himself with the compliment.

Hermione blushed a little, and Ron spoke up. "Hey, that's _my_ amazing woman!"

"Relax, Ron, relax. I just meant that no witch I have ever known has ever put this much work into something that she shouldn't really work on anyway."

"What do you mean 'shouldn't really work on anyway'?" protested Hermione.

"Just that it's not your fight. Draco is mad, I tell you. One of these days, that nutter is going to blast himself into oblivion and none of us will need to worry about him again."

Fred looked curiously at Harry. "You seem pretty sure of yourself, Potter."

"True, true, Fred," continued George. "I'd say he needs to lose some of that confidence and focus on our dear sister instead." He tossed a smile in Ginny's direction.

"Look," said Harry, "I'm not saying it isn't possible that Draco will hurt me. I'm just saying that I have Ginny now, and I _would_ like to focus on her instead. I think we have all had enough war and battles to last ten lifetimes. Let's enjoy ourselves for a change."

"Tell you what, Potter," Fred raised an eyebrow as if to say _just try to say no_, "you enjoy yourself with my sister, and let the rest of us worry about Malfoy."

Harry started to protest, but looking around the table at everyone, and feeling Ginny's head resting on his shoulder, he felt somewhat defeated. "Ok … ok. You win."

* * *

Having finished their meal, the twins insisted on checking out the building where Draco was believed to be. They all departed the pub and began walking down the street towards the flat.

Ginny skipped ahead to discuss some trivial matter with Fred. George and Ron followed, with Ron trying to explain what Hermione was explaining to Harry, as they took up the rear.

Hermione was pointing out the shimmery effect that seemed to surround the building. Harry thought he could see it, but really, he was only slightly better at detecting magic than Ron.

Just feet away from the building, they heard a loud pop, and the sound of glass shattering. Harry heard something nick the ground by his feet, and then a scream. A cloud of smoke rose from just a few feet in front of where Harry stood. As the smoke dissipated, the scene before them rendered them all speechless.

Ginny and Fred were both lying on the ground, blood pooling around them, with shards of glass sticking out of them in various places.

"NO!" Harry's shout echoed for what seemed miles.


	10. Chapter 10

Chapter 10

After an initial moment of shocked silence, Hermione screamed, and Ron ran to Ginny and Fred's side. George stood, dumbfounded, staring at his injured siblings while Harry took in the surroundings. He found it difficult to look directly at his wife—after years of watching his loved ones die or be hurt by the evil that was Voldemort, he couldn't bear the thought that Ginny might be following the rest. So for now, he couldn't bring himself to look at her in case his worst fears were confirmed. Instead, he looked up to see a window frame, with no glass in it, and as he watched the glass replaced itself, as if by magic. There was no one standing in the window that Harry could see. He felt a chill creep up his spine as though he was being watched by an unseen enemy.

Hermione grabbed Harry and George, shaking them from their fog, and Harry finally turned his reluctant gaze to the fallen Weasleys. He swallowed fearfully. Ginny was lying as if dead, with shards of glass piercing her skin in various places. Her face was scratched pretty badly, and she was bleeding. Hermione took this as a good sign, figuring that if she was still bleeding, her heart was still pumping. Fred was in quite the same condition, although his breathing seemed a bit more shallow, which could have been due to a large piece of the glass appeared to have punctured his right lung.

In tears, Ron cried, "We have to get them to St. Mungo's." Hermione nodded in agreement.

She stood and, being sure no one was watching, told Harry, "Go!" Harry had Ginny wrapped in his arms, and Disapparated. George followed, clinging for dear life to his brother. One last look up the street, and Ron and Hermione left as well.

* * *

The six arrived outside the Purge and Dowse building unnoticed, and Hermione spoke to the dummy in the window to gain entry.

The reception area was empty save for the Welcome Witch, who immediately called Healers to the room. They took one look at Fred and Ginny, levitated the pair, and moved them soundlessly through the double-doors at the end of the reception area.

Ron, Hermione, Harry and George took the lift to Fourth Floor: Spell Damage, and went to sit in the waiting area until they could see Ginny and Fred.

George and Harry were sitting silently, and, although he was trying to ignore them, Harry could hear Ron and Hermione whispering back and forth as though trying not to let anyone else hear them. Try as he might, he couldn't block out their whispers, which seemed to get louder and louder.

"Ron, I HAVE to talk to him about this. Your sister and brother got hurt because someone was trying to hurt HIM." Hermione looked pointedly at Harry, not realising he could hear every word.

"I AM sitting right here, you know." Harry sounded bitter. His new wife had been brought, bloodied and injured, to St. Mungo's, and he had no idea what the prognosis was.

Hermione glanced nervously at Ron before turning to Harry. "Harry, I – "

"Listen, mate," Ron interrupted, "Hermione has reason to believe that – "

"I believe her." Harry cut Ron off so effectively that Ron was speechless. "I believe Malfoy lives there, and I want to know why my wife is dying. I want to know why he hates me so much, and why he seems to think that if I die, his life will be any better. I am NOT responsible for the death of his parents, and I will NOT let this lie."

Hermione, too, was speechless, and as someone who always had something to say, this was a surprise.

"Ok, Harry. What can we do? Where do we start? It'll be like old times." Ron was trying hard to ease the tension.

"Ron!" Hermione scolded. "Shouldn't we at least wait to hear how Ginny and Fred are? Please, show some sensitivity."

They didn't have to wait long. The Healers came out and, as somber as they seemed, there was a lightness in their eyes that betrayed the good news. "Ginny and Fred are very lucky. Judging from the shards of glass, a spell was definitely responsible for the shatter, but fortunately their injuries are merely physical … no magic was involved in the injuries themselves, so they'll just need to spend a night to heal their wounds and they'll be able to go home tomorrow."

Both George and Harry had not realized that they had not been breathing. When the Healers finished their report, Ron tapped them on the shoulders, and they each let out a big breath.

George recovered quickly, asking, "Can we see them?"

The Healers responded with a soft chuckle. "Absolutely. As a matter of fact, if you don't get in there immediately, your brother will drive us all batty with his wisecracks."

George ran into the room, the rest of them close behind.

The visit was a short one; Ginny reassuring Harry that she was fine; Fred joking about the entire incident. Harry promised to make sure Draco Malfoy never hurt them again.

"Don't do anything dangerous, Harry," Ginny pleaded.

"I won't."

And with that, they all headed back to Harry and Ginny's flat.

* * *

"Harry," Hermione spoke in a warning voice, "don't do anything reckless."

Harry halted his pacing back and forth past the window and turned angrily on Hermione. "Hermione! My wife nearly DIED! I think 'reckless' is justified."

"But that's exactly what Malfoy would want – to have you go off half-cocked and –"

"'Half-cocked'?" Ron asked with a laugh. "What's that mean?"

"Never mind, Ron, not what you think. Harry, you have to be careful. Wait till we get some help from the Ministry."

Harry turned his back on his friends and stared out of the window into the dark night. A whoosh and a burst of flames interrupted his sulk and, turning back to face the room, he was surprised to see an owl shoot out of the green flames of his fireplace.

Ron caught the disoriented bird and unscrolled the note that was tied to its leg. "It's from McGonagall … says she heard about Ginny and Fred," his eyes scanned down the parchment quickly, "and she wants us to go up there."

"To Hogwarts?" Hermione asked, surprised. "What on earth for?"

"Says Dumbledore has something to say to us." He looked up at Harry uncertainly.

* * *

The three friends sat in the Headmistress's office, staring at Dumbledore's portrait. The occupant seemed to be snoring soundly, but upon hearing Harry's throat clearing, his eyes fluttered open.

"Ah, Harry! So good to see you again. And you too, Miss Granger and Mr. Weasley."

"Thank you, Professor. It is always nice to be back at Hogwarts."

"So, you received Professor McGonagall's owl, I presume?"

"Yes, sir," Harry spoke first, "I –"

"Harry," interrupted Professor Dumbledore. "I am concerned about Ginny and Fred. I asked Professor McGonagall to call you here because I was hoping to help you."

"Draco Malfoy blames me for the death of his parents."

"Understandable, Harry."

"But, sir, it wasn't my fault." Harry was more than a little agitated.

"No, I know it wasn't, Harry. I'm not saying his anger is not misdirected. I'm just saying it is understandable that he would feel that way."

"Professor, he's trying to kill me. And now Ginny and Fred have been hurt. I just want it to end. I thought with the war over we could all get back to having happy lives, with NORMAL craziness. This is just absurd."

"What you need to look at is what keeps you going."

"What keeps us going?"

"Yes."

Hermione responded, "I know, sir, that what keeps me going is the fact that I get to spend so much time with Ron."

"And why do you think that is, Miss Granger?"

"Because I love him."

"Exactly."

"I don't get it." Ron was thoroughly confused.

"All that Mr. Malfoy has to keep him going right now is the anticipation of avenging his parents' deaths. What he needs is a way to redirect his feelings into something positive."

"Oh superb! So all we have to do is conjure a beautiful woman who would not be averse to making it with Malfoy and we're in the clear?" Ron was not pleased with the prospect.

And although Hermione seemed to be embarrassed by Ron's outburst, Professor Dumbledore's eyes were twinkling. "I don't think that is what you need to do at all, Mr. Weasley. There must be some classmates who would be willing to talk to him. Perhaps," he yawned, "even one of you." With that, Dumbledore shifted in his chair and his chin nodded onto his chest as he fell asleep once more.

With a look of consternation, Harry led his friends to the fireplace to Floo home, where they turned to the portrait. Harry muttered a grudging "Thanks for your help, sir. Not that I have the foggiest idea what to do with it."

As they each waited their turn to be off, Dumbledore cracked open his eyelids and thought he heard grumbles, but could not make out the words of their conversation. Harry and Ron had been exchanging words about how Dumbledore was never straight with his answers, and how his portrait was worse than Dumbledore was alive.

Hermione watched Ron floo away, and said to Harry softly, "We _can_ do this. We'll work out exactly what Professor Dumbledore means and we _will_ do it."


	11. Chapter 11

Chapter 11

Somehow, Draco had managed to keep Pansy's attention that day when he had finally managed to speak aloud his thoughts. He still couldn't believe his luck. She had sat there, and listened, while he explained his feelings about everything; his parents, Harry Potter, Crabbe and Goyle. He even tried explaining a little of his feelings for her. He found that his attraction to her was genuine, and putting it into words was difficult, but he hoped he could get the idea across that he enjoyed spending time with her; that he wanted to be with her. How he had managed to keep her attention and her presence at the Broomsticks that afternoon he could not imagine. When he had finished saying everything he wanted to say, she just looked at him. She held his hand, and looked at him. He was at a loss to know how she felt because there was no expression on her face.

Now, three days later, here he was, walking with her. No. Not even that. Walking next to her. He wasn't quite sure whether he felt like he was _with_ her. But as they walked through Hogsmeade towards the Hogwarts castle, he felt a little lighter. When Pansy had owled him that morning to meet her for a stroll down memory lane – literally – he had agreed, mostly out of a desire to remember all the things about Potter that he hated. They had met at the Three Broomsticks, as planned, at eleven o'clock. Draco felt a bit apprehensive: since his confession to Pansy just a few days ago, something in him had changed; something about his perspective on things, on life, and he wasn't quite sure he liked it. He was almost ready to forget about Harry Potter and move on. Yet, he didn't really want to. He had been comfortable in his anger for so long, and Potter had been his focus for so long, the idea of focusing his life elsewhere, on something _happy_, just seemed wrong for him.

Pansy, on the other hand, had a bright smile on her face. Deep down, Draco assumed, she had to be feeling hesitant. But she hid it well. She gave him a soft kiss on the cheek, which spoke volumes, as Draco had not received even the remotest form of affection from anyone since his parents had died. It surprised him, but looking in her eyes, he read that Pansy was there for him. She wanted to believe everything he had told her, and she was giving him his chance to prove that he could be the man she had always hoped he'd be.

And so they walked. Draco hadn't been at the castle since the night Dumbledore had died. And, for all his attempts to kill him, he actually respected the old man, and wasn't sure he was ready to face the scene again. As they approached the open gates, he saw a figure standing, watching them, waiting to close the gates behind them once they had crossed onto the Hogwarts property.

"Miss Parkinson? It is most unusual for former students to come calling like this; however , under the circumstances … but, please remember that this is still a school, even if not for you. Appropriate behavior is required at all times." Professor McGonagall was curt in her statement, but soft in her eyes. Draco was not as fearful of her as he thought he might be. "Mr. Malfoy," she nodded.

* * *

Back at the Potter flat, the newlyweds, along with Ron and Hermione, were trying to figure out how they could possibly find a way to soften Draco Malfoy's heart. Admittedly, no one wanted to befriend him. But if they could just get him distracted enough to leave Harry alone, maybe they could all find a way to live in peace.

"I am still amazed that Malfoy has chosen to live in Muggle London," stated Ginny. She was sitting comfortably on the sofa, wrapped in a soft blanket. She gulped down the last of the blood-replenishing potion prescribed by St Mungo's, but in general she was in good health.

"Well, it makes perfect sense, really," said Hermione. "Who would think to look for him there?"

"Is Dumbledore really as daft as he seemed?" Harry asked. "I am not sure his advice was really all that forthcoming."

"Harry!" exclaimed Ron, pointing to the window. "That looks like a school owl."

Harry waved his wand at the window and it flew open to allow the owl to come in. Fishing some owl treats out of a bowl on his desk, he fed the bird, and removed the rolled parchment from its leg. He looked at the scroll with some trepidation, as the bird flew out the window on its way back to Hogwarts. Harry recognized the distinctive script of Professor McGonagall, as well as the Hogwarts seal, but he could not imagine what she had to say to him so soon after their visit.

_Dear Mr. Potter,_

_As you no doubt know, Professor Dumbledore's portrait has kept me apprised of your situation. You may be interested to learn that I am expecting visitors today, namely Draco Malfoy and Pansy Parkinson. Not to betray their confidence, but I believe their visit may pave the way for a change in Mr. Malfoy's attitude. Miss Parkinson may be your best ally at the moment._

_I will keep you informed on what transpires, but you may just hear from them yourself._

_Sincerely,  
Minerva McGonagall  
Headmistress  
Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry_

Harry was dumbfounded. Ginny tugged at his hand, and pulled him back down onto the sofa. When he was seated next to her, she took the parchment from his hands and read it aloud. Ron looked at Harry, wonderingly, and Hermione asked the unspoken question. "Is this for real? This is much too coincidental. The timing. Isn't it?"

* * *

Pansy and Draco walked along the shore of the Black Lake in silence. Pansy kept eyeing Draco, with questions on her mind, but afraid to ask. Draco had resisted looking at Pansy. She assumed it was his way of preventing her from asking the questions she so desperately wanted to ask. But time was ticking, and this trip to Hogwarts would be wasted if they remained silent for the next four or five hours.

"Draco?"

"Yes?"

"Why are you blaming Harry Potter for the Dark Lord killing your parents?" Pansy cut right to the chase and there was no way for Draco to avoid such a direct question. But Pansy felt she had a right to know.

"I …"

She pulled his face around to look at her. Her eyes were soft. She wasn't trying to provoke him. She hoped she was conveying that properly, with her eyes. Draco's eyes looked at her questioningly and defeated.

"I … because there's no one else to blame. Who else could have caused it?"

"Draco," Pansy continued, "my own parents suffered at the hands of the Dark Lord. Not as severely, I agree. But can anyone but the Dark Lord really be held responsible for the Dark Lord's actions?"

Draco remained silent.

* * *

Three hours later, Draco found himself outside the Headmistress's office. He was feeling much lighter of spirit, and even found that when he wasn't holding Pansy's hand he felt incomplete. Ever since the fall of the Dark Lord, the stone gargoyle that guarded the office remained open. As he trudged up the stairs to the office, and knocked on the door, Draco felt a tremendous wave of dread crash over him.

"Come in, Mr. Malfoy," Professor McGonagall's stern voice called.

Taking a deep breath, he opened the door and entered the office. The last time he'd seen it, Albus Dumbledore's mark had been strongly upon it; filled with his gadgets and magical tools. "Professor?"

"Yes, yes. What's on your mind, Malfoy?"

"Well, Professor, I've spent the last three hours walking and talking with Pansy. She made me remember all the fun times I had here."

"Yes, well, they may have been fun for you, but let's not forget you made a number of people, especially those in my house, miserable." Her words were harsh, and rang with truth, yet her face showed kindness.

"I know that, Professor. And if there were some way I could apologize for those days, I would. But I suppose it's all water under the bridge at this point. I don't think anyone would listen to me now."

"Considering what I've been reading in the _Prophet,_ and heaven knows I should be more selective about giving any credence to what that Skeeter woman writes, you have made yourself some more enemies in those same classmates that you once tormented."

"Well, that article is actually fairly accurate."

"If that's true, I can't imagine that Potter or his friends will be all that willing to hear what you have to say."

"I know. I don't know what I'd say, anyway."

"What has caused this change of heart? I've never known you to change your attitude so readily."

"I don't know. I think that spending this time with Pansy – well, she reminded me of things, of people. Mostly, she made me remember her. I think I want to try and rebuild that relationship. I don't really want Potter to take up so much of my life. Pansy reminded me of how much time and energy I wasted on him when we were in school. Do I really want to live like that? Look where it's got me. Look how miserable I am."


	12. Chapter 12

Chapter 12

Their guests had finally left, and Harry and Ginny had some time to themselves. All this 'fighting the Dark forces of evil' was just as exhausting as it had always been. Ginny was thankful for the peace and quiet their flat afforded them. Harry had convinced her to let them get a Muggle television set, and she now found herself sitting comfortably in the crook of his arm, watching a programme called _Top Gun_. Harry had called it a movie. It was almost over, and Ginny didn't really want to move. She was happy. Just like this.

"Does he get the girl?" she asked Harry.

"Hmmm?"

"The girl ... Charlie ... does Maverick end up with Charlie?"

"What kind of husband would I be if I took the surprise of the answer to that question away from you?"

Ginny playfully poked Harry in the side, laughing. Harry was so good to her. He appreciated that she did not 'grow up Muggle' and was not familiar with many of the things that Muggles took for granted. Things like television or DVDs. She watched as the actor in the movie pushed a coin through a slot and music began to play. She settled back into Harry's arms as Maverick's brilliant smile washed over the screen and he kissed Charlie.

* * *

Draco had a lot to think about. He looked around his flat; it was sparsely decorated and he wasn't really sure he wanted to be in such a cold, unfeeling place. He tried to picture Pansy sitting on his sofa. Her warm features seemed so out of place here. The image would not stay fixed in his mind. In his mind's eye, the surroundings would always change to a much warmer, albeit darker, setting. Pacing through the flat, he realized that he had not brought many personal items to his living quarters. He started piling his few belongings together. As he picked up his wand to shrink everything into his pocket, he felt an incredible emptiness wash over him. He slumped onto his bed, with his head in his hands. _What am I doing?_ he wondered.

Resolutely, he picked up his things, scribbled a note to his landlord explaining that he was vacating the premises, dropped it on the counter along with his key, and walked out the door, not bothering to shut it. As he passed the foyer the name plate caught his eye: Floyd A. Croam. He raised his wand and muttered, "_Incendio_," leaving a charred spot on the directory board. As he walked down the street, it was almost as if the grey cloudiness was breaking up with each step he took. By the time he reached the alley across from The Stout Yard, the sun was actually shining. He took this to be a sign of good things to come. It was a strange feeling; anticipating good things was never something Draco had been used to. Nevertheless, he turned down the alley, and, making sure no one was watching, he Disapparated away.

* * *

From under a tree, a figure watched as a blond man appeared out of thin air. The wrought-iron gate that had been shut for so long rattled at his appearance. The figure remained hidden, watching. The gates had opened for no-one for quite some time. Would they open today? The hidden person watched the man walk towards the gates, the expected swagger nowhere in sight. But, as if the gates could sense his approach, they seemed to dematerialize, as if they had never been there. He walked through, and the gates reappeared, but now they were open.

The woman watching from under the tree felt her breath catch in her throat, and tears began to sting the corners of her eyes. Quickly she wiped her eyes and pulled herself together. Pansy Parkinson was not a woman to show weakness. Quietly, she followed Draco onto the grounds of Malfoy Manor. No-one would have been able to open the gates but a Malfoy. And he had refused to return here since embarking on his vendetta against Harry Potter. Now that he _had_ returned, and Pansy hoped he could find some peace and solace. The house-elves had kept themselves busy since he had left, and the grounds were immaculate. Pansy quietly stole to the steps of the house and sat. She wanted to give Draco some time. She had a feeling he was going to visit the memorial stones of his parents.

She watched from the steps as he walked, hesitantly, towards the stones.

* * *

Draco approached the memorial stones of his parents with a heavy feeling in his chest. He hadn't been back here for quite some time, and there was a reason. Whenever he saw his parents stones, his emotions boiled over. Whenever he had looked at Lucius' stone, he'd felt anger. The first face that would come to his mind with this anger was Harry Potter's. But this time, the usual image started to fade, and his father's face started to become clearer. Shaking his head, as if to clear cobwebs, he tried to determine why he was able to focus on his father. He must really be starting to understand where the anger should be aptly directed. _Lucius Malfoy. Husband. Father._ That was all Draco had put on the stone. He had no words of fondness, and he had even hesitated to put the word 'Father' on the stone, but, in the end, he had relented. He knelt in front of the stone, placing his hands on it, and he started to shake.

"Father, why did you have to follow such a madman? What is it you have taught me to do? I have grown up hating the world around me. All because of you. I have spent so much of my life hating, believe all the words you fed me. And in the end, where did it get me? A full-grown wizard, orphaned by a man who believed he should be master of the world." Tears started to trickle down his cheeks. "And now you're gone. You've been gone. I don't know how to feel anything but hate, thanks to you. I don't know how to do anything but hurt. No-one wants to be around me. And I can't even tell you how much I hate you. And I do. I hate you. I really hate you." This last was shouted at the stone, with tears coursing down his face.

With his face bent, in his hands, he shook for a moment. Then he crawled slowly to the stone next to it. _Narcissa_ _Black Malfoy._ _Devoted Mother. Wife. _Draco had experienced some difficulty finding the right words to put on his mother's stone. The most loving thing he could come up with was 'devoted'. His relationship with his mother had never been easy, but she _had_ shown him affection. On more than one occasion, too. But she had also blindly followed Lucius in all aspects of their lives. Except where Draco was concerned. And this is what earned her Draco's love. She used to send him boxes of treats to school, and all sorts of fun things. It made all his friends jealous, really. But she did it, not to show that Draco had more than he needed, but to show him that she loved him.

Now, looking at her memorial stone, he sat with his knees pulled up to his chest and his arms wrapped around them, silently crying tears that she would never see. "Mother, I don't think I ever told you, but I do love you. I did. Father never gave me the chance. I was always supposed to be strong. Cold. Heartless. Showing love, for him, was showing weakness. Your devotion to him was your downfall, as I watched that madman kill you. But I loved you. I hope you know that."

With that he closed his eyes, and gently wept.

* * *

After what seemed like hours, Draco was brought out of his meditation by a hand on his shoulder. Years ago, he would have jumped defensively, wand at the ready to strike, in reaction to such a touch. Now, he was defeated. He had come and admitted his hatred for his father, and his love for this mother. He realized, and admitted to himself, that Harry Potter was not his enemy, but that he, himself, had made him his enemy. And so, at the gentle touch, he turned and leaned into the hand. He didn't need to look into the face of the woman standing there … he knew it was Pansy. And anyone else would have been smart to be afraid to interrupt such an intimate private moment between Draco and his thoughts, but he knew that Pansy was the one person, at this point, who could comfort him. He pulled her down to sit with him, and as they wrapped their arms around each other, his tears began to melt away. This was where he was meant to be, in the arms of this woman. This feeling was still quite new … this feeling of happiness that could only come from the presence of another person. Draco had never experienced it before. "Will you come into the manor with me?" Pansy nodded.

Holding her hand, he led her into the house. With a wave of his wand, the drapes opened, letting as much light as possible into the house. "There's something I need to do. Can I have some time to myself?"

"Of course, you can. May I return?"

Draco looked pleadingly at her. "I don't think I could stand to be here without you."

"All right, then. I'll go and pick up some dinner for us and be back in time to eat."

Grabbing her wrist, he asked, "Pansy, I hope we can work things out. I can't make any promises right now. And I have a lot to sort out. But I do hope you'll be here to help me. And maybe, just maybe ..." His words trailed off, and Pansy kissed him gently on the cheek.

"Do what you need to do, love. I'll be back in a few hours. You never need to fear that I won't be here. I will always be here for you."

With that, she spun on the spot, and Disapparated away.

Draco walked into the study, found a piece of Malfoy stationery and a quill. He sat down at his father's desk and began to write.

* * *

Harry and Ginny were starting to get ready for dinner. Ginny was a fabulous cook, having learned everything she knew from Molly Weasley. Harry was pulling out potatoes, carrots, and onions, and Ginny started to prepare a roast. In Harry's opinion, Ginny might even be a better cook than her mother, as she had no cookbooks, yet all her dishes were delicious. There was a light knock on the door, and the happy couple looked at each other wondering who it could be. Anyone who knew they had moved there used the Floo.

Harry opened the door and found Pansy Parkinson looking hopefully at him. Harry nodded curtly and she stepped into the flat, waving to Ginny who had just poked her head out of the kitchen. "Hello, Pansy. Please sit down." His words were polite, but here sat a Slytherin housemate who had always treated him with loathing and disrespect.

"Harry, Ginny," she began, as Ginny, too, came and sat down. "I know I have done nothing to earn your trust, or even your respect. But I think Professor McGonagall might have contacted you, and I do imagine that you still trust and respect her." She waited for a response. When none was forthcoming, she continued. "I have spent an awful lot of time with Draco these last few days. I don't expect him to have changed overnight. As a matter of fact, he, himself, told me that it would take a long time for him to change, and resolve the issues that war within his heart." She looked up at Harry's snort. "I know you think he's cold and heartless, but I assure you, he does have a heart. It's buried deep within layers of cold and unfeeling flesh, but it is there. And I think I can draw it out."

"Pansy, what exactly are you here to tell us?" Harry asked.

"I know we might never be friends. Maybe some day we can, but I don't really expect it. But I'm fairly certain that Draco will not be carrying out his vendetta against you."

Ginny choked back a sob at these words. "Are you serious?"

"Pansy, I want to believe you. McGonagall said that you might be the key to getting him to stand down. But how can I be sure?"

"Well, I guess you really can't. And I can't _expect _you to trust me. But I can _ask _you to trust me. I just watched Draco return to his manor. He didn't know I was there. But I watched as he declared his hatred for his father, and his love for his mother. His ability to love is there, and if I have anything to say about it, he will direct that towards me. I think I helped him realize that his hatred for you was misdirected. I think he knows that no one else is responsible for the things the Dark Lord did. It's just going to take him some time."

Ginny's eyes had welled up, and she was blinking back tears. Harry wasn't quite sure why Ginny was crying, and he didn't really want to be so uncharitable as to think that Pansy wasn't being truthful with him. But before he could speak, a great eagle owl flew to the window. Harry stepped over, grabbed some owl treats, and traded the treats for the parchment tied to its leg. It had been closed with the Malfoy seal, and Harry looked questioningly at Pansy, whose face registered complete astonishment.

"I really had no idea. He said he had something he needed to do, and asked me to give him a few hours. I decided to come here. I know you two are recently married, and I thought some good news, even from me, might be welcome."

_Potter,_

_Not sure where to begin. I want to get on with my life. I would think that you and Weasley's sister would want to get on with yours. Can we agree to a truce of some sort? I have no intention of hurting you, or your family, or hers, for that matter. I have found new things to occupy my time, I don't want to waste it on you._

_Malfoy _

The parchment was genuine, of this Harry was sure. But could he be sure of a happy future with his wife, with no life-threatening interruptions from Draco Malfoy? He looked up from his thoughts to find Ginny and Pansy deep in conversation with smiles on their faces. Perhaps friendship with Pansy was possible, after all.

"Pansy, I am going to make every effort to believe you. Ginny and I have things to discuss, as I imagine you and Malfoy do. I wish you luck with him, I truly do. I think you have a long road ahead of you, softening his heart." Taking a glance at Ginny, he added, "And while it may take some time, perhaps a friendship could be developed. I mean to say, it's possible, but I just don't know."

Pansy just nodded. She smiled at Ginny, and then headed for the door.

Once she was gone, Harry sank into the sofa. Ginny wrapped her arms around him, and he relaxed into her embrace. Sighing, they silently agreed to give Malfoy the benefit of the doubt. More than anything, they just wanted to get on with their lives. Harry still felt Ginny's tears and he turned, with a questioning look on his face, "Ginny, what's wrong? This is good news. Why are you crying?"

"I don't know." She sniffled. "I can't stop. I guess I'm just so relieved … and so happy. We can really start our lives now … no threats hanging over us, no security to worry about every moment … just you and me, in our own little flat, with no-one to bother us …"


	13. Chapter 13

Chapter 13

The emotion during the meal taking place at the Burrow was one of relief. It had been a few weeks since Harry had received the letter from Draco Malfoy, and neither the Potters, nor any of the Weasleys had been peppered with threats, nor news clippings of their impending demise in that time.

After Pansy had left that day, Harry had inked a note back to Malfoy Manor. In it, he agreed that a truce was in order. He made it clear that he wanted to trust what Draco and Pansy were trying to do, get on with their lives, but it was still difficult to change heart so quickly. In his mind, Harry chuckled to himself at the irony that Malfoy probably felt the same way. But he also let Draco know that he was willing to give it a go, and hoped he and Pansy would be happy together. In true Harry Potter fashion, he did want the best for all involved.

He never heard from Draco after that, and he didn't expect to. Part of him hoped that someday they would pass on the street and could exchange pleasantries. But an even larger part of him hoped that he would never have to see or hear about Draco Malfoy again.

Now, dancing around the yard at the Burrow, with his wife in his arms, Harry had pushed all thoughts of Draco Malfoy far from his mind. Ginny was radiant, so much more at this moment, than ever before. Her laughter rang with a peace and joy that he never heard before. Looking around at the rest of the family, Harry noticed a lot of things. Molly and Arthur were sitting on a swing together, gazing at the stars, and occasionally stealing glances at each other. Harry hoped that his marriage to Ginny would be as wonderful when they reached their years. Fred and George were at the table, with Angelina and Katie. The four of them were laughing and reminiscing about their Hogwarts days, more specifically their Quidditch days, when Oliver Wood pushed them hard, and then harder still, to win that Quidditch Cup. Remembering Oliver, Harry wondered what was making them laugh so hard. Harry looked past them to the lawn. Charlie had gone back to Romania, and promised to come back soon. But Bill and Fleur were dancing, arms wrapped around each other, as if no one else existed.

Suddenly, Ginny drew his attention back to her. Her kiss was soft and sweet, and so full of love. It was pretty hard for Harry to contain himself. "Harry," she began, "look over there. Under that tree. Is that Ron and Hermione?" She pointed with a nod of her head. Harry's eyes followed the direction she indicated. In the moonlight, under a tree in the darkness, sat Ron and Hermione, heads bent close together. Turning back to Ginny, Harry just shrugged.

"Harry Potter," Ginny cried, "you know something!"

"I know lots of things, love," he replied.

She playfully punched him in the side, and dragged him off to sit down for a drink. They sipped their ice-cold pumpkin juice, and watched as Hermione and Ron skipped down the hill toward the light and sound of the party. It was a sight that Harry never thought he'd see … Ron skipping. As they came into the light, you could see the grins plastered across both their faces.

"We have some news!" Ron put his arm around Hermione's shoulders.

Molly looked up, and guessing what he was about to say, started to nod with a smile on her face.

"Well, son," Arthur said, "get on with it. What's your news?"

"Well, uh," he started. "Hermione has agreed … what I mean to say is …"

"Oh, Ron," Hermione interrupted. "Ron has asked me to marry him!"

Ginny squealed, and jumped out of Harry's arms, pulling Hermione into a big hug. Harry stood to slap Ron on the shoulder and congratulate him. Bill and Fleur actually managed to hear the announcement, even through their invisible cocoon of love, and broke from their dancing to celebrate the engagement. Angelina and Katie had moved to congratulate the pair, but before they could Fred suddenly grabbed Ron with a whoop and George likewise reached for Hermione. Together, the twins gave them each a full-on-the-lips smack of a kiss – with a back dip and all! Hermione managed to stand up, looking a bit flushed, but was pleased that the twins were so happy for them. Ron, on the other hand, threw Fred from him with a snarl, obviously totally disgusted, and wrapped a protective arm around Hermione.

Laughing, Harry and Ginny found each other again. Wrapping their arms around each other in happiness seemed so natural. Harry couldn't imagine ever being without Ginny again. As Harry took a sip from his glass, Ginny whispered in his ear, and he nearly choked on his juice. "What was that?" he croaked.

Ginny pulled Harry away from the throng. "I said, 'I am pregnant.'" Upon seeing the look of stunned disbelief on Harry's face, she added, "We're going to have a baby!"

* * *

Eight months later ...

Sitting in the parlor at the Manor, Pansy brought Draco the paper, which had just been dropped by Owl Post. Pulling out the society pages, she handed Draco the rest of the paper, and let out a hearty guffaw. "Oh my!" she exclaimed, as she sat next to Draco.

There, on the front of the society pages, was a large picture of Harry and Ginny Potter, and their new son, James. Their smiles seemed to be permanently affixed, and the baby, she hated to admit, was quite cute. "They let them multiply? We'll never get away from those Gryffindors."

Beneath that story was another story, with a smaller, but still quite noticeable, picture of Ron Weasley and Hermione Granger. Draco snorted at the headline, _Ronald Weasley and Hermione Granger to wed — the Union of Heroes_. "Well," he drawled, "Weasley always did try to pair up higher than he deserved. Being friends with Potter really raised him up a notch. I supposed if you're going to marry a Mudblood, might as well make it a smart one." He shook his head.

Draco put the paper down, and pulled the rest of it out of Pansy's hands. He pulled her into a big hug. "I hope we never have to see any of them. Ever."

"We don't have to, you know," she replied.

"Thank you, Pansy." Saying those words still felt odd, and did not roll off his tongue smoothly. "Thank you … for you." With that, he crumpled the page, and tossed it in the fire. As the moving pictures of the Potters and Ron and Hermione froze with fright at being faced with such an ashy fate, Draco leaned in to kiss Pansy.

THE END


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